Looking For Love (in all the wrong places)

Text for this Sunday's sermon/discussion at The River:

Ephesians 2, verses 1-10, & 19-22 (THE MESSAGE)


We all desire to fit in somewhere, don't we? Whether it's a prison yard, a place of business, a social club, a political group, or even a coffee shop... we all want to find a place where we feel as though we're accepted - that we belong. Some of these places are inherently good and healthy (as long as they don't become an obsession)... and some are just plain destructive.


I used to spend a lot of time drinking large amounts of beer in college. Okay... we're not talking murder or theft or some other horrible crime (most of the time anyway). We are, however, talking about a profoundly hollow lifestyle that was just about as alienated from God as a person would ever want to become.


My favorite hangout on weekends was The Tav (which by the way, still serves awesome "Super Mother" burgers!). But it wasn't really the place that defined our community per se... it was the alcohol. Most everything we did revolved around consuming lots of booze until we achieved our profoundly simple goal of total drunkenness. This tended to accomplish many things: It made us more talkative (even though our conversations had no depth); it gave us more courage to attempt to pick up girls (even when they weren't interested); it made us feel as though we could fight better (even though we proved otherwise on a couple of occasions)... and it made us believe we could drive responsibly (even though we obviously couldn't). By the time you factor in the massive hangovers, the murdered brain cells, the messed-up (and complicated) relationships, the close calls with the law, the shadowy memories of what you did or said the night before, and the profound sense of emptiness that overwhelms after a long night of partying... it just doesn't seem nearly as exciting or worthwhile or fun the morning after. Don't get me wrong... I had a lot of fun times... but honestly, I never really experienced anything close to meaningful or purposeful or joyful... nothing that felt real inside. Sure, it was a kind of community... but in the end it was just a shallow and lonely way of life.


Have you ever experienced "community" like that? Perhaps it doesn't revolve around beer (or other alcohol)... perhaps we're talking a less ethically-challenged group more focused on shared interests and hobbies... or sporting events... or business networking... or other religions... or even (gasp)... another church that seemed to lack the vibrancy of creative and purposeful belonging. Whatever your story, I'd like to hear it sometime. Really, I would.


Anyway, somehow, some way I eventually stumbled upon (or was beckoned to) a real community of people who seemed to offer more than merely altering my mind... or the pursuit of self-centered companionship... or immediate gratification. They offered Christ to me in a shockingly new and beautiful way. And once He took up residence and became rooted in my heart... life has just never been the same.


So I gladly say sayanora to mindless tavern hopping. I may have met some great people along the way... but nevertheless, I would never want to go back to that old way of life... to that kind of empty (and costly) community... ever. I much prefer to be a part of something much bigger and better and fuller and richer and deeper. I much prefer to be a (flawed yet dearly loved) disciple of Jesus Christ. So, how about you... what's your take on it?

Immerse Yourself

Text:  2 Kings 5:1-19 (NLT) 


Ahhh, Naaman. Such a proud man. You are a mighty warrior. Kings admire your courage and bravery. You have won great victories. People look up to you.

But you have a problem. In spite of having everything... you don't have that which you desire most. Healing from that nasty, ugly disease that controls your life... leprosy.


But there is a solution, Naaman. Not one that requires your cunning or valor... not one that can be violently torn from your enemy on a battlefield... not one that can be bought or bargained for or manipulated with brute force.


Nope... your solution is to humble yourself. Your solution is to listen to this nobody of a prophet from Israel... the man who won't even come outside to personally greet you (even though you're a man of great importance)... when you journey a great distance to seek the help of his God.


“Go and wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River. Then your skin will be restored, and you will be healed of your leprosy.” (Actually, I like how it's put in The Message: "Immerse yourself").


The Jordan River? Really? It's a foreign mud hole! Damascus has much bigger, much cleaner rivers than the Jordan. What a stinking insult!


Just do it, Naaman. Humble yourself. Listen to this man's God. Don't try to make sense of it... just listen to what your heart tells you (and swallow your pride for once). You'd risk your life to be cleansed... why not immerse yourself in the river seven times and see what happens?


"So Naaman went down to the Jordan River and dipped himself seven times, as the man of God had instructed him. And his skin became as healthy as the skin of a young child’s, and he was healed!"


I love how God works. The cleansing of our soul (just like Naaman's cleansing of his body)... isn't dependent on our own strength or wits or brains or power. It's all about immersing ourself in the River of God's grace. It's about swallowing our pride, and taking a risk... a leap of faith... (to beat this collection of mixed metaphors to death)... a willingness to dive in to God's healing waters... into something much bigger and greater than ourselves.


To me... that's what the Christian life is all about. And (to relate this story to this Sunday's big event at Irene Rinehart Riverfront Park... that's also what baptism is all about. Humility... obedience... faith... immersing ourselves (or allowing someone else to immerse us) into the death of Christ... and being raised up in His resurrection power. Baptism is many things... including (but not limited to) an outward sign of an inward grace. In other words, a public expression that God has circumcised your heart... and you want to tell the world that you have been marked for Him.


If you consider yourself a child of God, but you haven't allowed yourself to be baptized yet... then Christian, you need to check your heart and ask why. Pride? Feelings of worthiness? (Who among us is worthy?). Laziness?  Whatever it is... I have a solution.


Immerse yourself. And if you wanna do it this Sunday in The River... let's talk.

Shema

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.  - Deuteronomy 6:4-9

The above portion of Scripture is a very important one in the Jewish faith. It is often repeated in morning and evening prayer services, and Jewish mothers teach it to their children before they go to sleep at night.

You know, some people just encapsulate the love of God. They may not know it, but their words and their passion for Him overflows out of their hearts and into others. Cole and I have met a young man like that recently... and through our sometimes long conversations, we have both been struck by his bold faith in spite of some overwhelming circumstances. As a result, he has managed to bring us closer to Christ as he just sort of bubbles over with God's Word. Something about this guy just reeks with the love of God... and it's the wonderfully contagious aroma of His salvation.

When I heard his story... I knew the people of our community of faith needed to hear it as well. So this Sunday at The River, we're going to hear a testimony that I'm sure will surely shake us... and challenge us to reevaluate our own hearts, and walk with God. I don't know about you, but in spite of my tenaciously deep-rooted self-centeredness, I deeply desire to love the Lord God with all my heart and soul and strength. I'm pretty sure this young man's story will do nothing but strengthen our desire to know and to serve the Author of Life. After all, we're supposed to talk about them when we sit at home and when we walk along the road, when we lie down and when we get up... right?

See ya Sunday.  :-)

Lover, Lover (You Don't Treat Me No Good No More)

So, ya... another country song about love - love, that is, through the eyes of a songwriter who may or may not know the first thing about the One who designed us to love. I was going to talk about the biblical approach to love in the context of marriage (and the panorama of struggles that come about)... but after a couple of long phone conversations this week, I decided on a new approach to this song... and this Sunday's sermon topic.


Text:  1 Corinthians 13:4-7


Have you ever known an older person - a person who's been a Christian for years and years - and been positively affected by their enthusiasm for life? You know what I mean, right...? They are so positive, so bubbling over with joy, that you can't help but feel good in their presence. Their deep, abiding faith in Jesus Christ sustains them through thick and thin... and they continually lift up prayers to heaven on behalf of anyone and everyone around them. I love encountering that kind of person... it's rare, but every once in awhile, you meet an elderly person who just exudes the love of Jesus Christ - and it makes you feel good.


Then there's the grumpy, even bitter old person who gripes and complains about every last thing. The years have not been kind to their body (and/or their mind)... so they make it their mission to take it out on anyone and everyone around them. Not just the occasional complaint mind you... I mean an old coot who seems obsessed with (possessed by?) a spirit of anger and bitterness. Nothing is ever good enough, and happiness is nothing more than a distant memory of yesteryear (presumably when everything functioned better). 


So, what's the difference between these two types of Christ followers?


One Sunday per month, I used to hold a "worship service" at a nursing home in Kansas City during my (many) years as a seminary student. Believe me... preaching in a nursing home is a humbling experience to say the least! If the folks weren't medicated to the max... and/or otherwise completely out of touch with reality... then they were almost guaranteed to be one of two things: Really joyful and full of life and optimism, or really grumpy - with a thick protective outer layer of frustrated pessimism. Unfortunately, in the nursing home the really grumpy types always seemed to win by a wide margin. One old grump I often encountered was a former pastor (or so he claimed). I can't remember his name... but let's call him George. Man, you'd think a pastor might be the one person who's most excited about preparing to stand before Christ! Nope. George was reduced to nothing more than a grumpy old man in that place.


But one person, Helen, really did stand apart from everyone else - in that she loved the Lord her God... no matter what her circumstances. She was nearly as old as dirt (sorry, but she was really old, ok?)... and consequently she had long ago lost the ability to walk on her own or see very well. Let's face it, she lived in an impoverished, relatively dirty, smelly, seemingly lifeless nursing home located in the wrong side of town. As I said, most of her peers were completely out of it most of the time. As far as I know, she didn't get a lot of visitors. And frankly, the nursing staff didn't seem overly thrilled about her love affair with Jesus either. Most of them were there to do a job and collect a paycheck (with lots of cigarette breaks in between). 


But Helen was truly a bright light in a dark place. In spite of her circumstances, she couldn't keep a smile off of her face. She always seemed happy whenever I saw her. Every time I came to set up my CD of instrumental hymns, and prepared to preach the word (at several decibels above my comfort level... just so everyone could hear and stay awake), I would be greeted by Helen and her effervescent smile and kind words.


Helen is a hero of mine. I so want to be like Helen as time marches on, atrophy sets in, and my body (and mind?) begin to diminish. Assuming I get to live a long life on this earth, I so want to be carried by Christ into old age and dance before the Lord (at least in spirit)... rather than becoming disillusioned and bitter like George.


But do I have the faith... no matter the circumstances?